Three Point One Four
by Evanna Adams
Summary: Castiel has Dean's help to repay. Only google can help. This is written for my 666th follower on tumblr: moose-in-the-tardis-on-221b. :D She's awesome. Go follow.


Castiel squirmed in his chair, restlessly. He picked the remote from the table beside him and muted the Disney movie that was playing. _Brave _had been playing on repeat since the past few days, well, from the time Sam had shown it to him. Dean had promised to get him addicted to _The Avengers _instead, so that he could be able to sit in the same room as Castiel at least. Secretly, Castiel believed that Dean had really liked the movie but for reasons unknown, he considered it a wound to his manliness to admit that.

It had been two weeks, twenty six hours, fifteen minutes and forty six seconds since Castiel had… Become human. He still couldn't say the word. Dean had provided him with the alternative.

Dean had provided him with everything.

It sounded sappy and Dean had made him to shut his mouth the first time he had tried to say it. Castiel realized that Dean didn't want words for gratitude, he didn't want anything. He didn't consider himself worth any trouble. Sam and Castiel were too weary to disprove Dean. Old habits die hard.

Castiel was tapping his foot incessantly against the floor. Sam had told him not to develop that habit but he couldn't help it. It was his body's unconscious response to disquiet.

The weight of everything that the brothers had done for him fell upon his shoulders. Sam had graciously accepted his gratitude and smiled at him. Sam understood his kind eyes showed that. But Dean… Dean would never take anything. It wasn't that their help could be measured in anything material or otherwise but Castiel needed to feel at peace. He would be agitated if all he did was receive.

Castiel sighed and buried his face in his hands. Dean… What could he do for him… He looked up at the muted TV. Merida's mother was trying some new delicacy and she a tremor ran through her body when it turned out to be sour. Castiel smiled inspite of himself. The smile turned into a grin as he realized just what he would do.

He got up, pushing his borrowed jeans way over his lean hips as he made his way to find Sam and his laptop.

Castiel growled as the second egg hit the floor, thankfully missing his shoe this time. He picked up another egg, raising it to observing it at eye level. Glaring at the egg, he carefully tapped it against the side of the bowl. A slight crack formed. Holding it from both side, he pushed them gently towards each other. The yolk gently landed over the flour.

Castiel grinned. He picked up the whip and stuck it into the mixture.

Turning around to look at the recipe on the laptop lying on the island, he read the instructions carefully. Thoughtfully, he turned back and started to whip the mixture. It would be more efficient to have the recipe right in front of me, rather than turning around all the time but he needed way more space than the island could provide.

Half an hour and half the batter wasting away on the floor later, the pastries were baking inside. It was now time to make the apple mixture. He ended up with many cuts along his fingers. Nothing he couldn't take, but he really missed his Grace right about now. The pie could have been made way earlier. Nevertheless, it wouldn't have been fair. He wanted Dean to have a pie that he made himself.

Two burnt pies later, Castiel held a slightly wonky but edible looking pie in his mitten-ed hand. He grinned at his handiwork. And now all he had to do was wait for Dean to come back from running errands (Sam had been complaining about the lack of a good mattress and Dean took it upon himself to get him a good one).

"Sammy! Cas!" Dean called, entering the house, lugging a huge mattress and a couple of bags.

What was supposed to be a mattress run, had turned into a long shopping spree for Dean. He had ventured 'accidentally' into the kitchen department and 'accidentally' gotten them a new hi-tech microwave. Also a new stove… And a toaster. With a waffle maker (He had to refer to the instructions). Then as accidents went, he found himself in the clothes department. When he came out, he was carrying half a dozen plaid shirts and two pairs of jeans for Castiel.

Grumbling that neither of his housemates heard him, Dean struggled to move everything through the hallway without dropping something off the tables that lined the wall. Castiel had a decorate-everything phase last week. It was one of the depression moods of his.

The amazing fragrance of apple pie wafted from the kitchen right to Dean's nose. He started to move faster through the hallways, decorations be damned. He was panting when he reached the kitchen and saw the misshaped but amazing smelling pie lying at the edge of the table, untouched. Dean looked around.

"Sam? Cas?" he called once.

Of course the pie wasn't poisoned or possessed. No creature could get inside the house and the angels were gone… Besides, wouldn't they offer him a perfect pie…

Dropping everything on the floor and answering the calls of his growling stomach, Dean picked up the fork beside the bowl and dug in. The pie was heavenly. He moaned at the taste. It was perfection.

Too busy eating, he never noticed Castiel standing against the door frame, grinning at him. Only when he had eaten enough did he realize that he was being watched. He jumped.

"Cas!" Realisation struck him. "Did-did you make this, Cas?" he asked with a frown.

"Yes," Castiel replied, shyly.

Dean surged forward, the fork dropping with a clang against the floor. He wrapped his arms tight around Castiel.

"Thanks, man. It was great," he said.

Surprised, Castiel hugged back, burying his face in Dean's shoulder.

"Hey, you okay?"

"Yes, Dean. I'm great."

Dean chuckled. "Good to hear that, Cas."

It took five wonky but great tasting pies and forty five of Sam's insults for Dean to finally ask Castiel out on a date. It went great and it was the first time Dean happily dropped his date at his room with just a goodnight kiss.


End file.
